


Huckleberry Hookah Lounge

by Desirae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Angst with a Happy Ending, Bar Owner Dean Winchester, Best Friends, Boys In Love, Dean owns a Hookah lounge, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Roommates, Touchy-feely best friends, Weddings, bed sharing, supportive families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 00:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak have been best friends since childhood, in and out of each other’s pockets for as long as either of them could remember. Even when Dean moved out to California to be close to his brother and open his business, their bond still remained.And when Castiel came home from work early to find his fiance sleeping with his brother, it was Dean he ran to, Dean, who welcomed him with open arms, and Dean who gave him a fresh start.It’s two years later when the wedding invitation shows up in the mail and Castiel decides he needs to go; if only to show that he was not broken. And he won’t have to do it alone, not when he has Dean by his side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello:) Here is my contribution to this year's Tropfest. Best friends to lovers has always been my favorite trope, so I hope you enjoy this sappy, unconditional love story. 
> 
> Thank you to the amazing mods for all your hard work.
> 
> The beautiful artwork in this story is by Cenendra Riva, you can find her work [Here](https://cenedras-art.tumblr.com/post/184712632223/huckleberry-hookah-lounge-by-desirae-sterite-part) , please check it out and show her some love:)
> 
> Thank you Sarah, for the extra read through <3 & to Bek, for being there as always, chapter by chapter. Love you, teapot! Parabatai forever!

                                                                

 

Dean unlocked the front door of his apartment and pushed open the door. His stomach growled when the scent of barbecue chicken pizza assaulted Dean’s senses. He didn’t need to peer into the living room to know that he’d find his roommate and best friend, Castiel, curled up on the couch with his bumble-bee blanket and an open box of Papa Formaggio's on the round, pine coffee table.

 

Dean ruffled Castiel’s dark, messy hair affectionately from behind the back of the navy sectional on his way to his bedroom.  Cas leaned into the touch for a moment instead of a greeting and Dean chuckled.

 

“You know it’s like seventy-five degrees out, right?” Dean called out teasingly from his open door as he stripped off his short-sleeved Henley and jeans for his well-worn _AC/DC_ tee-shirt and flannel pajama pants.

 

“Which would actually be relevant if you didn’t keep the air conditioning in here set a sixty-six,” he heard Castiel counter in his deep, gravely voice.

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes as he plopped down on the sofa next to his best friend. He reached and grabbed a slice of pizza and took a gratifying bite. He was extremely thankful that he lived above his workplace. Dean’s stomach had been growling for most of the night and it had been too busy for him to take a break with Garth out on paternity leave.

 

Dean owned Huckleberry Hookah Lounge. The name was partly because of the many different fruit-flavored combinations of Shisha tobacco he offered, but mainly as a tribute to his friendship with Castiel. It had become a running joke ever since they got into all of Dean’s father’s westerns when they were eleven years old and first watched _Tombstone._  Dean in a cowboy phase that he never quite grew out of with Castiel as his sidekick in playground wars against Cas’ brothers- would loudly declare that they were each other’s Huckleberry. Essentially, it meant I’m your man, your best friend, your partner in crime.  Now, even at thirty-one years old, the adage was the same for the two men.

 

Castiel leaned into Dean’s space, taking a sniff. “You smell good.  New Shisha?”

 

“We had huckleberry, persimmon, and vanilla combo at half-price tonight. I smell like a spring pie,” Dean said with a grin.

 

Castiel’s bright blue eyes lit up with amusement. “How do you always find a way to relate things back to pie?”

 

Dean shrugged. “It’s a gift,” he said before yanking on his friend’s blanket. “Gimme some of this, it’s fucking cold in here,” he said, breaking into laughter at Castiel’s unimpressed look. Dean leaned forward and grabbed a Budweiser out of the six-pack sitting on the coffee table and popped the top to take a long swig.

 

Castiel snuggled in closer, despite his feigned annoyance and let his head rest against Dean’s shoulder as he scrolled through the DVR recordings. He settled on the latest episode of _Doctor_ _Sexy_ _M.D._ Dean supposed it would look strange to outsiders who didn’t know them; two grown males, not romantically involved, cuddling on the couch at the end of a long day. This was their standard, though.

 

Dean and Castiel had been best friends, in and out of each other’s pockets since they were six years old. Hugs, gentle forehead kisses, those were just things they had always done.  Growing into unruly teenagers, then responsible adults hadn’t changed that. They knew each other better than anyone and loved each other unconditionally, and it had never occurred to either of them growing up that sharing such free affection was unusual.

 

Castiel gave a barely audible sigh, and Dean looked down at him in concern. “Something wrong, Huckleberry?” Dean asked, warming when Castiel’s familiar half-smile tugged at his lips at the nickname.  

 

“Long day. Zachariah has us taking on this new account, so he’s foisting all of his crap on me, even though I have plenty of work of my own to deal with. Of course, there’s no financial compensation for all of this extra time I’m putting in, either,” Castiel grumbled.

 

Dean turned and pressed a kiss into Cas’ citrus-scented hair. “I’m sorry. Dude, you need to get outta there. You hate working for that firm, and when you came here, it was only supposed to be temporary anyway. I know that you could go out on your own and be a success. You already take care of the Hookah Lounge and Charlie’s comic book store, and Ellen’s bar on the side,” Dean said. Castiel was a CPA who worked for Adler & Associates and he absolutely loathed it. “I have that back room in the lounge that you could totally use as your office. It has its own backdoor, people wouldn’t have to come through the front to get to you.”

 

It’s a conversation they have had a few times since Cas moved to California to live with him, but this time Castiel surprised him by nodding.

 

“I think you might be right, Dean,” Castiel said thoughtfully, looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes and Dean tried not to get lost in the deep sea of blue staring back at him.

 

Dean cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah? Took ya long enough,” he teased.

 

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, honestly. I mean, it’s not like I don’t have enough in my savings to keep me going if it takes time to build a decent clientele. Plus,” he offered with a shrug and that half-smile, “it wouldn’t suck to be able to see more of you during the day.”

 

Dean grinned, “You don’t see enough of this annoying mug at home, huh?”

 

“You’re my best friend,” Castiel said solemnly. “I always want to see you.”

 

Looking down at the fuzzy black and yellow stripes of the blanket, not responding, which was probably best seeing as how tight his throat was with emotion. Castiel had always been blunt like that, and it still flustered him to no end.

 

“Anything in the mail today?” Dean asked, deflecting and was surprised to feel Castiel tense up beside him. Dean looked over at his friend in concern. “Cas? Everything okay, man?”

 

Castiel shifted, eyes lifting to meet Dean’s gaze, then sighed as he leaned forward, picking up the pizza box and pulled out a glossy manilla envelope from underneath. Wordlessly, he handed it to Dean.

 

Dean lifted the seal and pulled out the elegant cardstock, brows lifting as he read.

 

                                         _Christian & Darla Allan _

_Request the honor of your presence_

_At the marriage of their daughter_

 

                                         _Daphne Jean Allan_

_ & _

_Michael Charles Novak_

_On Friday, July 5th_

_2019_

 

It was Dean’s snort of disbelief that seemed to relax Castiel, as he slumped back against Dean’s shoulder with a grunt of annoyance.

 

“Are you gonna go?” Dean asked, and Castiel scrubbed a hand over his face, the sound of his raspy stubble audible with the motion.

 

“I don’t want to. What would I even say to them? _Congratulations, Daphne. I’m glad to see cheating on me with my brother worked out so well for you. Here’s a gravy boat._ ”

 

Dean let out a bark of laughter at the dry delivery. “I’m betting they debated a while before even sending it out,” Dean said, then rubbed at the crinkle between Cas’ eyes with his thumb as the man peered at him in question. “Cuz July is like, a month and a half away. Isn’t that cutting it close on invites? So? You gonna go, or what?” Dean asked again.

 

“I have to.”

 

“Cas, buddy, no one would think less of you if you didn’t. You don’t owe them anything. It’s not on you to show up like everything is okay just to ease their conscience,” Dean said heatedly.

 

“I can’t just let them win and think they broke me or something, you know?” Castiel said softly, and Dean took his hand.

 

“Yeah, I kinda thought you were gonna say that,” Dean said quietly then sat up, startled when Cas let out a deep groan. “What? What’s wrong?”

 

“I just realized now I have to find a date,” Castiel said, irritation in his gravel-laced voice.

 

Dean tried to ignore the unpleasant wave of nausea at the thought of Castiel dating someone else. Yes, he knew Cas didn’t see him like that and had long accepted the fact that one day his best friend would move on, but he didn’t have to like it.

 

“No one interesting at the firm?” he asked lightly, and Castiel rolled his eyes.  

 

“When have I ever spent time with any of those people outside of work? They’re all as miserable as I am,” he replied petulantly and Dean reached out to pinch his cheek.

 

“Aww, I think you’re adorable,” Dean teased as Castiel laughed and pushed at his hand.

 

“Shut up, you menace.”

 

“Hey,” Dean said, hating the look of misery on his best friend’s face, “how about I go with you?”

 

Castiel’s brows rose up in surprise. “You?”

 

“Sure, why not? We could go a few days early, see our folks. Be nice to be back home for the fourth, and both our moms have been begging us to come to visit for a while now,” something Dean has been deftly avoiding to spare Cas from having to run into his brother and his ex, as Castiel's parents Chuck and Naomi were Dean’s parent’s best friends and neighbors.

 

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He tugged at his ear absently, and he appeared to be contemplating.

 

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he said, finally and Dean tried to ignore the stab of hurt, but something must have shown on his face as Castiel hurried to reassure him, hand grasping at Dean’s knee as he stared at him imploringly.

“No, no, it’s not because I don’t want you there. God, I would love nothing more than to have you there. It’s just… I don’t want to look like I’ve been pining away out here and that I’m so pathetic I needed to bring my best friend with me because I couldn’t get a date.”

 

“Cas, who the fuck cares what they think of you? They are lucky you would even consider going in the first place,” Dean said, watching as Cas chewed on his bottom lip, thoughtfully. Don’t say it. It’s a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. “What if we tell them I’m there as your date, not your best friend?” _You’re such a fucking moron._

 

Castiel huffed out a laugh, clearly thinking Dean was joking until he saw that he wasn’t laughing with him.

 

“Wait. Are you serious?” Castiel asked, and Dean shrugged, trying for nonchalant.

 

“Why not? People used to think we were dating when we lived back home anyway. Did you know that Ms. Mildred baked me an I’m sorry pie when you got engaged because she thought you left me for Daphne?”

 

Dean threw his head back laughing at the shocked looked on Cas’ face that slowly morphed into outrage.

 

“Is that why she told me she didn’t need any more volunteers at the library?” Castiel asked, his usual deep rumble rising a few octaves in outrage and only making Dean laugh harder.

 

“What can I say, Cas, you know older women love me.”

 

“ Yes, you’re a cougar magnet,” Castiel deadpanned with an epic eye-roll “ But speaking of women, don’t you think Lisa will be upset to have you gone for the holiday?” Castiel asked, and Dean balked at him.

 

“What are you talking about?” he asked in confusion. “And stop rolling your eyes, they’re gonna get stuck that way.”

 

Castiel ignored him. “Lisa? The girl you do ‘yoga’ with?”

 

Dean’s shoulders shook in silent laughter as Castiel said the word with full-on air quotes and head tilt.

 

“Cas… are you saying that for the past month, every time I said  I’m going to Lisa’s to do yoga, you thought I meant it as a euphemism for sex?” When Cas only continued to peer at him like an adorably inquisitive bird Dean guffawed loudly and tugged his phone out of his pocket. He opened his browser and found what he was looking for on google. Bringing up the image, he turned his cellphone towards Castiel, noting the blush that climbed up his cheeks with satisfaction.

 

“Lisa’s Yoga Studio,” Castiel read out loud, tone sandpaper rough. “You’ve actually been going to yoga class?”

 

“Yeah, dude. I mean, I’m not as bendy as you,” Dean said pointedly as he recalled the time when sixteen-year-old Cas drunkenly confessed he could fellate himself but was warned by his doctor’s not to on account of how dangerous it was,  “But I can downward dog with the best of 'em. You were getting all worried about my health and shit, so Sam recommended this beginner’s class he took last year. I’ve kinda been wondering why you haven’t said anything about it, actually. Thought you were just being nice and not embarrassing me,” Dean laughed again and watched as Castiel seemed to process this information, a myriad of emotions flashing in his azure eyes, and for a second, Dean could have sworn he saw relief shining in their depths.

 

Castiel’s tongue peeped out to wet his bottom lip before he started to nod. “Okay,” he said.

 

“Okay?  Okay, what? I just said a bunch of shit. Oh. Okay like you want me to come to the wedding?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel said, voice suddenly firm and lips curved up in a smile. “Please come to my dick of my brother’s wedding with me. As yourself, though, not as my fake date, because you’re right. I owe them nothing and fuck what they think of me. ”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Castiel was having a strange day. He didn’t know how else to describe it. He awoke in the morning with nervous, excited energy coupled with a sort of feeling of disbelief.

 

Dean wasn’t dating Lisa. He’d gone to sleep murmuring it.  The relief he’d felt had his knees buckling as soon as he was beside his bed.

 

He was distracted, barely able to focus on what he was doing at work, having to run numbers multiple times to ensure accuracy. When he’d gone in to request for two weeks off in July, Zachariah had pitched a fit, even though Castiel has been with the company for nearly two years and never used any vacation days. Fed up,  Castiel wound up walking out of the office, having quit his job, instead of taking time off.

 

In a flare of self-confidence, Castiel had said enough. He was done being spoken to like he was worthless, he was done doing Zachariah's job for him and not getting paid for it. He was just done. Why was he making himself miserable in a position that he hated, when he didn’t have to? He had enough money saved to float himself while building up a solid base.  Switching from a public accountant to private was what he’d always wanted to do; to build up a solid rapport with local businesses instead of big name companies that were so impersonal.

 

Plus, he could choose his own hours, and be around to make sure Dean remembered to eat more than the coffee he served at the lounge and whatever candy bar he’d grabbed at the _7/11_ down the street on his break.

 

After leaving work, he caught the Metro, and not quite over the butterflies of what had just transpired, decided a nice stroll on the boardwalk was necessary before facing Dean and the cacophony of feelings he was swimming in since last night. Castiel walked along, jacket slung over his shoulder and tie-loosened. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe the shy, reserved, kid from New England was living in sunny _Santa Cruz_ , amongst the bohemians. He truly loved it.

 

Castiel decided to walk the few blocks to downtown where the Huckleberry Hookah Lounge sat. It was nearing two in the afternoon. Dean would be opening in an hour. The lounge was open from 3 pm until 12 pm. There were no reservations, just first come first serve. When Dean had told him he was opening a hookah lounge, he wasn’t sure what he envisioned. Certainly not the chill, intimate space that it was. Leather couches in chocolate brown and cranberry were set up in four to six seater blocks on a black and white patterned floor. Lights were a dim, buttery yellow, creating a warm ambiance. Local artists works were featured on the walls with varying themes of fantasy to landscapes to graphic novel prints. Behind the central register,  framed, was a picture of Dean and Castiel at ten years old in their swim trunks and goggles, hands clasped as they hammed it up for the camera. Another photo featured Dean with his slung arm around his younger brother Sam on the day Dean first opened the business.

                                                               

 

Castiel should have been there. Of course, living and working across the country had made that a little tricky. Among other things.

 

It was Friday so Dean would be a little busier than usual. Cas knew that those who planned on relaxing the night away would show up fairly early to claim a spot. The board games would come off of the shelf and couples and groups of friends would order their tea and fruit-infused shisha and while the night away with monopoly or cribbage or clue. Music playing quietly would stay mainly in the classic or alt-rock genre, and the vibe would be completely relaxed.

 

Cas wasn’t one to indulge in the activity of smoking but often partook in Saturday game night with friends, enjoying one of the many teas offered, Moroccan Mint a particular favorite. Dean always said he smelled of mint and citrus.

 

So many things had changed for Castiel over the past few years, and now he had gone and quit his job and roped his best friend into coming back home with him for a wedding he really didn’t want to attend. Not to mention facing memories of Dean leaving that he’d rather not relive.  

 

Castiel hurried across the crosswalk to Main Street, the lounge only two blocks over, mind still on Dean. They’d been best friends forever, but he knew it was more than that. They had a profound bond. Dean didn’t treat any of his friends the way he did Castiel and vice versa. It was something he and Daphne used to argue about when they were dating. She would say they were codependent and it was embarrassing. But Castiel didn’t know how not to be in Dean’s personal space. The few significant blow-ups they’d ever had growing up had always ended with one of them crawling through the other’s bedroom window and curling around the other in the middle of the night with whispered I’m sorrys.

 

One of the worst fights had been when Dean had told Castiel he was leaving. Cas had felt abandoned and betrayed. They’d had plans. Dean would take over the auto-shop, and Cas would do the books. Looking back, Castiel should have seen it coming; when things had become serious with Daphne, things had changed. No more movie nights, or taking off for the weekend to go camping.  Dean always called him whipped, and accused him of just going along with whatever Daphne said. He supposed to a degree it was true. Castiel hadn’t believed he could have what he truly wanted in a relationship so he’d agreed to a blind date with Daphne. In her, he found someone who wasn’t necessarily longing for a physically intimate relationship, but an intellectual connection bloomed, and eventually led to deep affection.  Despite how chaste their relationship was, appearance was essential to Daphne, and it wasn’t long before his contact with Dean had been limited to holidays and rare times when they could meet for lunch.

 

Things with Dean were strained, and he hated to be the one to cause his dearest friend pain. Guilt ate him up, but he had allowed things to get so out of hand and he hadn’t been sure how to dig his way out of the abyss he’d seemed to find himself in. But then Dean had begun dating a girl named Cassie for a little while, and things continued to move along steadily after that.  Castiel remembered going through his own relationship with Daphne in a kind of fog. He missed his best friend desperately, but things were awkward now. Castiel didn’t propose to Daphne in a fit of fevered passion. Instead, it was a decision they came to mutually, both attesting that it was the next logical step in their journey. When Dean had found out, that was when all hell had broken loose.

 

_“Seriously? You’re seriously going to marry this girl? You don’t even love her! What is wrong with you?”_

 

_“There’s nothing wrong with me, Dean!” Castiel yelled back.  “Not everyone marries for love, sometimes it’s for companionship and stability.”_

 

_“But not you, Cas! You’re not one of those people! You are filled with so much love and passion and fire,” Dean implored. “You should be with someone who can give that back tenfold, who will recognize just how awesome you are.”_

 

_“Dean,” Castiel shook his head sadly. “That kind of love… it’s not for me.”_

 

_“I’m not gonna watch you do this, Cas, I can’t. I wasn’t going to tell you like this. Actually, I was going to ask if you...well, it doesn’t really matter now what I was going to ask you.  I’m moving out to California,” Dean said, and Castiel felt as though the wind were knocked out of him. “Sam’s been having a real hard time since Jess died. He’s even transferring from Stanford over to Santa Cruz. I’ve been scoping out properties, and I found the perfect little set-up.”_

 

_“Set up for what?” Castiel managed to grit out as his head still spun with the news of Dean’s impending departure._

 

_“I’m gonna open up a hookah lounge. Charlie’s comic book store is right next to an empty store with a two-room apartment above it,” Dean said, speaking of their mutual best friend from High School who had gone off to college out west and never come back. “ It’s her landlord Missouri’s property, and she is apparently gung-ho to rent the space to me with an option to buy in the future. I, uh, I already got approved for the loan.”_

 

_Castiel was flabbergasted. How had everything in his life got so turned upside down? “When were you going to tell me?” he whispered, angry tears pricking behind his eyes. “Was I even going to get a goodbye?”_

 

_“Cas, that’s not fair. Of course, I was going to tell you. I wanted to tell you right away. As it was, telling my parents was a nightmare all on its own. But I need to do this. I can’t stay here anymore. I feel suffocated, and it’s not like you have time for me anymore.”_

 

_“Dean-”_

 

_“No, I just mean, when I got this idea in my head, I always thought you’d be doing it with me. I’d run the business, you’d handle the books. But now…”_

 

_“We could still do that, Dean! You can open the lounge here. I know Sam is having a rough time,” Castiel shook his head, thinking of Sam’s sweet college girlfriend who had perished in a house fire a few months back, “ but he is a big boy, and he plans on coming home when school is finished. There is no reason why you can’t just stay here.”_

 

_Dean looked at Castiel with such abject sorrow in his moss green eyes that he felt that surely he was missing something. But his best friend’s face turned stoic, and he said, “I’m sorry, Cas. This is just something I have to do.”_

 

They hadn’t spoken for a week after that, Castiel leaving Dean’s apartment and not looking back, only to show up the following Saturday. It was nearing midnight, and he’d used his key to get in. Castiel had followed the familiar path of Dean’s work clothes to his bedroom, finding the man sleeping restlessly in his boxers. Cas had stripped down to his own undershirt and briefs and crawled into bed alongside his best friend and enveloped him like an octopus.

 

They hadn’t spoken of it the next day, and Castiel never learned the full, true answer of why Dean really felt the need to run all the way to the West Coast to realize his new dream. Instead of pressing, Cas had made it his mission to just spend as much time with Dean as he could in the month he had left with him.  

 

And a year later when he came home from work early and found his fiance being fucked by his older brother, it was Dean he ran to. Cas hadn’t even said a word to the shocked gasps and twin pleas for forgiveness. He grabbed his old _Red Sox_ duffle bag and packed a week's worth of clothing and his laptop and chargers and slammed into his Mazda to make the cross-country trip to his best friend.

 

When Castiel showed up at the front door of lounge, he’d barely made it through the entryway before Dean’s eyes had found him, striding from across the room from where he had just seated a group of twenty-somethings. Dean dragged him into his strong embrace, and Castiel felt as though the planet was finally back in alignment. _I’ve sure missed you, Huckleberry_ , Dean had whispered, and Cas’ laugh was bordering on a sob as he buried his head in between the juncture of Dean’s neck and shoulder. Greedily, he’d breathed in the familiar clean scent of _Zest_ soap, and cheap strawberry scented _Suave_.

 

Dean had left Garth and Pamela to watch the lounge and pulled Castiel through to the back room and up the staircase to his apartment.  Dean held him while he’d wept; for feeling betrayed, for wasting months of his life in a relationship that was doomed from the start, for finally having Dean to hold onto for the first time in over a year.  Within a week, Cas had officially moved in with Dean. His sister Hannah and her then boyfriend, now husband, Fergus “Crowley” McLeod packed and shipped his things out to him, leaving the furniture and anything else not of sentimental value behind. Despite leaving his family, job, and friends behind, Castiel remembered feeling like he was truly breathing again.

 

The lounge was still dark when Castiel approached, and a glance at his watch told him it was still fifteen minutes until it was time to open. Castiel walked around to the back of the building where Dean’s pride and joy, his 67 black Chevy Impala, sat gleaming under the afternoon sun. He used his key to open the backdoor, a quick grin lighting up his face as he thought about finally using the ample space as his office. Castiel climbed the back staircase and found the door to the apartment unlocked and the living room empty.  Led Zeppelin played softly, and he could hear voices coming from the kitchen, recognizing Dean and his brother Sam.

 

“Yo, who’s that?” Dean called out, and Castiel rolled his eyes as he poked his head into the kitchen.

 

“Fred the friendly burglar,” Castiel said sarcastically, nodding his head hello at Sam.

 

“Hey, you’re home early, everything okay?” Dean asked, voice ripe with concern.

 

“Well, I’m officially jobless,” he said with a sheepish smile which only widened when he saw Dean and Sam’s shocked expressions.

 

“You quit? Oh, please tell me you quit and told that insufferable bag of dicks where to sit and spin,” Dean pleaded excitedly, Sam smacking him on the arm to shut him up. As Castiel was again reminded of the strange day he was having, a bubble of happy laughter erupted as the unconditional support he knew Dean would show washed over him.

  


“Something like that,” he said, as he slipped into the chair next to his best friend, and soaked in his warmth. “ He was giving me a hard time about needing time-off-”

 

“You never take time off,” Dean scowled, and Castiel nodded.

 

“Yes, and when I brought that up, he said _‘Well, Castiel, those serious about climbing to the top need to forsake their free time,’_ like he hadn’t just taken a two-week vacation in Maui with wife number four.  So I quit. You’re right, Dean. There’s no reason to wait.”

 

“Congratulations, Cas,” Sam said warmly. “I know you’ll do great on your own. I even think I have a few clients I can throw your way.”

 

“Thank you, Sam,” Castiel replied, touched by the offer.

 

Dean pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, and he closed his eyes at the gesture. “I’m proud of you, Cas,” Dean said before clapping his hands together and rubbing them together vigorously. “Looks like we got an office to paint.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

It had been a busy few weeks since Castiel quit his job. Between preparations to leave for the wedding-purchasing plane tickets, booking the hotel, which Dean insisted on handling _(Hey, Cas, this room’s got a jacuzzi. You’re good with sharing a bed, right? I’ll sleep in the fucking tub if I have to.)_ and setting up his new office, the past month had come and gone swiftly.  Even though he had said nothing to any of his client base at Adler Associates, a few of the accounts he handled had found out anyway that Castiel had left the company and gone out on his own. He could now add Gardener Landscape Inc to his list with a hinted promise of more.   It was the last weekend before their flight left for Boston on Monday, and hadn’t that been a battle. Castiel had resorted to pleading puppy dog eyes as he’d reminded Dean that they both had clients. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Pamela and Garth to run the lounge for so long;  especially during the busiest month of the summer, with a road trip in the Impala adding at least six days to the journey. Dean had finally relented when Castiel promised to give a few days of his time for a trip to _Big_ _Basin_ for some camping and fishing in September.

 

It also helped that Pamela said she had a few sleeping pills he could have if Dean really felt the need to be knocked out on the flight.

 

Castiel stood back and surveyed the backroom-turned-office.  His diploma from _UMass_ _Dartmouth_ hung on the wall. He‘d decided on a bright, lemon yellow. Two comfortable cushioned chairs in black sat in front of a desk in warm espresso. Next, to his computer, Castiel had a framed photo of him and Dean at sixteen, huddled together waiting for the Halloween hayride at _Keith_ _Box_ _Farms_ to begin, all rosy-cheeked from the cold and holding twin cups of cocoa.

 

“Looks good in here. Did you mean for the color scheme to rival a beehive?” Dean asked with a smirk.

 

“Shut up,” Castiel said without heat and Dean chuckled.

 

“I’m just teasing. For real, Cas, it looks great. You’re gonna do great,” Dean said, coming forward to tug him into a warm embrace. His clean soap and strawberry scent carried a hint of spiced chai, and Castiel knew he had just come from the kitchen.

 

“Making tea?” Castiel murmured against Dean’s flannel-clad shoulder.

 

“Yeah, and heating up coals. You ready for game night? Been a while since you haven’t been too bogged down with work to come.”

 

“Are you playing too? Castiel inquired, lifting his head to look into Dean’s green and gold-flecked eyes.

 

“I’ll be in and out, depending on how busy we are, but yeah. I should be able to play a few quick rounds of whatever you guys are playing.”  

 

Castiel spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in the hookah lounge, greeting customers and helping heat coals and making tea and coffee. It was near eight p.m. when Sam and his girlfriend Jo came in, staking their usual spot by the window that allowed them to watch the nightlife swarm by.  Jo was a sweet, feisty girl in school to be a chef. She was also the first girl Sam had dated since his girlfriend passed away. Twenty minutes or so later Charlie walked in with her latest crush of the moment. Last month it had been a pilot named Dorothy, three months before that, it was the belly dancer Dean hired to draw in the crowd midweek named Gilda. She’d quit when that relationship had gone up in smoke, much to Dean’s dismay. He’d only met this new girl once before. A shy baker named Kara. A little quieter than Charlie’s usual taste, but Castiel was reserving judgment.

 

They settled on scrabble, with Jo and Sam, Charlie and Kara, and Dean and Castiel as teammates. It was the best choice so that even if Dean had to step away to deal with a customer, it wouldn’t hold up the game.

 

“You’re better at the big point words than me, anyway,” Dean said with a grin “It’s not like you need me.”

 

Castiel frowned.  His biggest pet peeve in the world had to be Dean talking down about himself, even in a joking manner.

 

Sam and Jo took the first game, and Dean stepped out to help with the 10 p.m. rush as the early evening crowd began filtering out.  The group started to play five card stud, but as they grew more relaxed, the game was forgotten for conversation. Castiel sipped on his spiced chai tea, having a yen for it after inhaling the enticing scent on Dean earlier.

 

Jo was engaged in an involved conversation with Kara about culinary school,  as Charlie tapped ash off of the coals with the small tongs. Sam, like Castiel, did not partake of the shisha but enjoyed the relaxing atmosphere all the same.

 

“How are you feeling about going home, Cas?” Sam asked with concerned curiosity, and Castiel grimaced

 

“I am a little anxious, I must admit. I didn’t ask Dean to come, but I am so grateful he offered,” Castiel admitted.

 

Sam huffed out a laugh. “You know Dean would do anything for you.”

 

It was true. Castiel cast his gaze over to where Dean was greeting some regulars and leading them to the back. When he felt himself scowling as a petite brunette put her hand on Dean’s shoulder, Castiel forced himself to turn his attention back to Sam, who was looking at him with fond amusement.

 

“What?” Castiel asked, schooling the defensiveness out of his tone and Sam just shook his head.

 

“Nothing. You two are just ridiculous, that’s all,” Sam replied, sounding a little exasperated. “Have you talked to your mom?”

 

Castiel recognized deflection when he heard it but let it go regardless. He had, in fact, talked to his mother. Castiel had called his parents the day after he received the invitation. When he told his mother he would be coming, she had cried. Castiel hated hurting his mother and had always been close to both of his parents, but after what happened Castiel hadn’t been home; not since he’d moved in with Dean, unable to bring himself to be anywhere near his brother. The betrayal stung less now, but that first year it had been an open sore. Of course, when Christmas came, Dean had chosen to stay behind with Castiel, refusing to allow his best friend to be alone during the holiday, despite his protest that he would be fine. Instead, they had sent Sam along with gifts for the Winchester and the Novak households and had spent a quiet Christmas day in their pajamas opening presents, eating Chinese take-out and watching _Die_ _Hard_.

 

“I did. She’s not happy we are staying at a hotel, but understands that I want to be able to have my space in case things get weird,” Castiel took a sip of his tea and sighed.

 

“She’s probably just grateful you’re coming at all,” Sam said gently. “I imagine as a mom it’s hard for her, trying to support both of you.”

 

The bell jingling at the door signaled more patrons, but when Cas turned to look, it was just Jo’s brother Ash. He watched as the mullet-haired genius from _MIT_ pulled Dean in for a one-armed hug before making his way to the group, ruffling his sister’s hair and making her squawk.

 

“Regular blend?” Dean asked, and Ash nodded.

 

“Yessir, kemosabe. Actually, can you add a little mint to the mix? And I’ll take a Turkish coffee,” Ash said as he sank down into the seat next to Castiel, giving him a high five.

 

“You got it, Coffee and one lemon, berry, mint for the hippie,” Dean teased, and Ash snorted inelegantly.  

 

“This is Santa Cruz, dude, we’re all hippies. Well, cept’ Cas,” Ash said with a light arm punch.

 

Dean placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder, squeezing the muscle with firm fingers. “Oh, you’d be surprised. When we were kids, Cas wanted to be a bee farmer and make free honey for bears.”

 

Charlie, having tuned into the conversation, choked on her iced ginger peach tea. “Free honey for bears?”

 

Castiel felt his face heating, even as he laughed, and Dean nodded solemnly.

 

“Yeah, you know. So bears wouldn’t keep getting stuck in trees trying to steal it,” Dean said sagely, and Cas pinched the thick, bowed leg closest to him.

 

“Shut up, I was six and all Hannah ever watched was Winnie the Pooh.”

 

“Ouch! Yeah, sure, blame it on Hannah,” Dean replied, finally breaking his stoic facade and grinning widely.

 

“You know what? Just for that, you can sleep in the hotel tub,” Castiel said smartly, arching a brow at Dean’s gasp of outrage.

 

“Do I even want to know what that’s about?” Sam asked Castiel when Dean went to prepare Ash’s hookah and order his coffee, and he just shook his head.

 

“Man, that girl’s eyes just follow him everywhere,” Jo said suddenly, and Castiel looked at her curiously.

 

“Who?” he asked, confused and was surprised when Kara’s shy voice answered.

 

“That little dark-haired chick. Every time Dean moves, her eyes follow.”

Castiel hadn’t noticed, though that was no doubt to the fact that when Dean was around, his own eyes often followed the man as well.

 

“I wonder if she’ll get up the nerve this time,” Charlie remarked. “ I thought for sure she was going to ask him out last week. I mean, she held him up fifteen minutes past closing time to discuss shisha flavor combinations. “

 

Castiel cleared his throat, tugging at his earlobe as he strove for a casual tone. “Did he...ahem, did he seem interested?”

 

No one answered as Dean had just returned with Ash’s order, placing the large hookah to the side and out of the way of the aisle and carefully placing the coals on top. Pamela followed behind with the coffee.

 

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, soft strains of _Savage_ _Garden_ , _Garbage_ , and _Bic_ _Runga_ playing quietly as things began to die down. Ever since it was pointed out, Castiel couldn’t help but notice the brunette in the back who did indeed seem to be stalking Dean with her gaze. He found himself frowning whenever his best friend was called over to their party, stomach twisting a bit every time he heard Dean’s infectious laughter.

 

“I think she’s gonna do it, guys,” Jo murmured, and everyone turned to look as the girl’s friends left, waving goodbye at her and winking as she hung back, obviously waiting for Dean.

 

“Guys, we can’t all stare at once, it’s a little obvious,” Ash said. “Let’s not ruin this for Dean, it’s been ages since I’ve seen that boy have a little _extracurricular_ fun,” Ash said, waggling his eyebrows and making the girls groan.

 

“Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing,” Charlie said, rolling her eyes. “Hell, before Cas moved in, Dean was the definition of a man-whore. I didn’t even want him breathing on me,” she said with a faux shudder that had everyone chuckling, though Cas’ own laughter was weak, at best.

 

Was he holding Dean back? Would Dean rather be out having one-night stands instead of cuddling on the couch watching _Planet_ _Earth_ with Castiel?  The truth was, now that he knew that he had completely misread the Lisa situation, Castiel couldn’t remember the last time Dean had gone on a date. He was a horrible person for being relieved about that and his guilt reared up at his selfishness.  Castiel began to feel sick, and it only got worse when Dean and the girl’s voice carried over to where they were all sitting and pretending (badly) not to eavesdrop.

 

Castiel side-eyed Dean, leaning forward on the couch, laced his fingers together, stiffly. Castiel's forearms rested on his thighs as his knees bounced jerkily.

 

The girl curled her hair behind her ear as she looked up at Dean with what could only be described as a coy expression.

 

“Something I can help you with, Andrea?” Dean’s smooth drawl had Castiel sitting up straighter and his nerves on edge.

 

“Actually yes,” Andrea said with a soft laugh. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you since I first saw you,” she took a deep breath as Dean just waited patiently, the charming smile on his face betraying that he had an idea of what was coming. “I was wondering if you were free next weekend? There’s the concert in the park for the fourth, and I was hoping that _may_ -be,” she said, drawing the word out, ”that you’d want to come with me?”

 

“Andrea, that’s really sweet of you, but I’m actually out of town for a wedding next weekend.  But thank you, for the invite,” Dean said sincerely, and Cas stood up abruptly and began clearing away mugs. He brought them back in the kitchen and placed them in one of the dishwashers alongside diffusers and more cups while Pamela and Garth took care of the coals.

 

“You okay, Huckleberry?”

 

Castiel startled at the sound of Dean’s concerned voice behind him, and he closed his eyes. He could hear Garth and Pamela shuffle out, murmuring good night.

 

“You don’t have to come, you know,” Castiel found himself saying, a little defensively. “To the wedding I mean.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked, and when Cas turned to face him, he was greeted with raised brows and a _what the fuck_ expression.

 

“If you want to go out with that girl. It’s been pointed out that you don’t ‘ _get around’_ nearly as much as you used too and if I’m cramping your style-”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean’s hands came up towards him, crowding into Castiel’s space. “Where the hell is this coming from? Have I ever given you the impression that you're cramping my style?”

 

“No, but-”

 

“No buts, Cas,” Dean ran his arms up and down Castiel’s, infusing warmth into his skin that had gone chill with worry and anxiety. “If I wanted to be out hooking up all the time, I would be, okay? And if I didn’t want to go with you to the wedding, I wouldn’t have offered,” Dean’s forest eyes seemed to dance as they searched his gaze and Castiel could only stare back intensely as his best friend attempted to read him. “Tell me what’s going on in that busy head of yours?” he asked, his murmur more of a whisper and Castiel wanted to weep at the tenderness of his tone.

 

 _I love you. I adore you. You’re a part of me, and the idea of you with someone else turns me into a jealous moron._  “I don’t know, I guess I’m just more nervous about the whole thing than I thought. I’m sorry I tried to give you an out,” Castiel replied, lips curling in an apologetic half-smile.

 

Dean pressed a kiss to Cas’ temple, and he closed his eyes at the sweet gesture. The sound of a throat clearing had Dean pulling back, but his hands remained on Castiel’s arms, turning his head towards the noise.

 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sam said,  indeed looking uncomfortable for intruding. “I just wanted to say goodbye and have a safe flight since I won’t see you guys before you leave,” Sam had work on top of classes and wouldn’t be able to drive Dean and Castiel to the airport. Luckily, Ash had volunteered to take them.

 

“Thank you, Sam,” Castiel said.

 

“Yeah, thanks, Sammy. And you’re gonna pop in here and check on Garth and Pam during the week?” Sam was an intern for a law firm in town, and Castiel knew Dean appreciated that his brother would take the time to make sure things at Huckleberry Hookah Lounge were running smoothly in his absence.

 

“I will, don’t worry. And Jo will be available to help out if it gets busy.”

 

Dean slid his hands down Castiel’s arms, catching his hands in a quick squeeze before letting go so he could go and hug his brother goodbye.  Sam drew Castiel into a hug as well.

 

“Good luck, Cas. You can do this,” Sam said encouragingly, and Dean grinned.

 

“Course’ he can,” Dean said, his arm coming to rest over Castiel’s shoulders, a reassuring weight that grounded him. Castiel leaned into Dean’s side feeling tired, wanting nothing more than to be upstairs on their couch or better yet, asleep in his bed.

 

“And you,” Sam said with a smirk. “Try not to puke, pass out, or make a scene or anything once you’re on the plane. Actually, I’m surprised I haven’t heard any rants about flying metal death traps yet.”

 

“Whatever, bitch. I’m not scared. Cas’ll keep me calm, right?” Dean turned to with a warm smile.

 

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel said soothingly. “You’ll be just fine.”


	4. Chapter 4

  
  


“I'm not fine, Cas. I am so beyond fine right now, I’m about two seconds away from yelling about phalanges,” Dean said, and his eyes narrowed at Castiel when he let out a bark of laughter at the  _ Friends _ reference. They had finished the in-flight safety spiel, and attendants would be taking drink orders soon, but all Dean could think about was how very high up they were and how fast and far they would fall if they crashed and burned.

 

“It’s going to be okay, Dean. The pills should kick in soon, and if we’re lucky, you’ll sleep through the whole flight.”

 

Dean focused on Castiel’s voice, gravel-laced and steady and felt his heart rate slow a little bit. A flight attendant came down the aisle, and Dean felt like cheering when she asked if he would like an alcoholic beverage.

 

“Damn straight, I’ll take a-”

 

“He’ll have water, and I’ll have tea, please,” Castiel cut in and turned to him when the attendant moved on. “Dean, you are not mixing alcohol with sleeping pills,” he said.

 

Dean goggled at him for a moment. “I wasn’t going to drink a whole bottle of whiskey, for Christ's Sake,” Dean pouted,  but found no sympathy in his best friend’s cornflower gaze. 

 

Dean watched as Castiel reached into his carryon and pulled out a copy of _Slaughterhouse_ _5_. Castiel pushed the armrest up in between them, and Dean took the invitation for what it was and moved into Cas’ space, breathing in his citrus and mint scent as he curled into his neck. He was pretty drowsy already, mumbling his thanks when the attendant came back with his water and Castiel’s tea, placing them on the tray table.

 

“Are you feeling better, Dean?” Castiel asked, book in one hand, the other carding gently through Dean’s hair.

 

“Mmm,” he murmured, “You have until the end of this flight to keep doing that,” Dean said, huffing a laugh into Castiel’s neck when he tugged at Dean’s hair playfully. “Read to me, Cas.”

 

Dean watched as Castiel splayed the book open one-handed, fingers of the other still fisted in his hair, now massaging his scalp.

 

“ _ All of this happened _ , “ Castiel started in his whiskey-soaked voice, “ _ more or less. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true. _ ..”

 

******

 

“Dean. Dean, it’s time to wake up,” Castiel’s voice filtered in through the fog. Dean was grateful for the sleeping pills, but fuck if they didn’t make the wake up disorienting. “I swear, it’s like getting you up for school all over again,” he heard Castiel huff, and a raspy laugh escaped as Dean stretched and blinked his eyes open. They’d arrived at Logan and Dean couldn’t believe he slept through the almost six-hour flight.

 

“Please,” Dean said, voice sleep-roughened, “ like you were any better when we were kids. Every tardy we got was because of you,” he stopped to give a jaw-cracking yawn as they grabbed their carry-ons and filed off of the plane and headed to baggage claim.

 

“Because you kept me up all night with your stupid video games,” Castiel said as he pulled his suitcase off of the conveyor belt. “Not everyone can get by on just four hours, Dean,” Castiel said, exasperated.

 

Dean pressed a noisy kiss to Castiel’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said, not really sorry at all. Sleepy, grumpy Cas was one of his favorite things. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Castiel muttered as they headed to the men’s room, Dean snorting when he saw his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a disaster area, no doubt from Castiel’s fingers. 

 

Dean stood a few urinals over so he wouldn’t be caught creeping a peek at his best friend’s junk, then made his way to the sink to wash his hands and splash some water on his face. Dean hated the lights in public restrooms. He always looked so pale, making his freckles stand in stark relief against his skin.

 

“Stop scowling at your freckles and let's go,” Castiel’s voice was sandpaper rough as he sent Dean a knowing smirk.

 

“Get outta my head, you creepy mind reader,” Dean countered, shoving at Castiel’s shoulder. They took the escalators down to the man floor where the Enterprise-Car Rental was, and Dean kept the grumbling to a minimum when they wound up with a gold Kia. 

 

It was two in the afternoon, and instead of driving straight to the Winchester’s house in Quincy they were going to check in the hotel first so they could freshen up and relax for a bit.  Naomi and Chuck would be there as well, and Dean knew it would be an emotional reunion for his best friend. Seeing as how Dean had slept the whole flight and Castiel looked dead on his feet, Dean took the wheel and drove to the Best Western he had booked them in. Rush hour had them checking in an hour later despite the hotel only being twenty minutes away from the airport.

 

Dean nearly wept when he saw the Dunkin Donuts kiosk in the lobby and sent Castiel a grateful smile when he just leaned against the wall and nodded his head, signaling that he would wait while Dean ordered a large coffee, cream, and one sugar. 

 

Drink in hand, and luggage in the other Dean and Castiel took the elevator to the fourth floor. Castiel used the key card to let them into the room.  It was spacious and clean, and the view overlooked the Neponset River. Dean deposited his luggage on the love seat in the living room area as Castiel merely dropped his on the floor in front of the king size bed, before crawling onto it and collapsing on top of the covers. Dean felt his heart stutter in affection at the picture he made, and he took a quick picture with his cell phone before going over and tugging Castiel’s shoes off.  Dean pulled at the comforter until it bunched at Castiel’s hips, encouraging him to lift so he could pull it the rest of the way down and cover him back up. Dean pressed a soft kiss to Castiel’s temple, earning himself a sleepy smile, then retreated to the loveseat to check in with Sam and enjoy his coffee.

 

*****

 

John and Mary Winchester lived in a four-bedroom cape in North Quincy.  It was painted chocolate brown with baby blue trim. The Novaks’ lived right next door, in a house of the same style in bright white with black shutters. Though they’d long since been converted into guest rooms, Dean couldn’t help but smile as he pulled their rental car into his parent's driveway, memories of climbing up the ladder he and Castiel had shared to get into each other's rooms.

 

“Listen, Cas. If this gets too awkward, or they start pressing you to talk about shit you don’t wanna talk about, you just give me a sign, and we’re out of here, okay? I’ll pretend to be tired, or whatever,” Dean said, not expecting any problems but wanting Castiel to know he had the option regardless. Dean pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. Before he could open the door, Castiel surged forward for a hug, his strong arms wrapping around Dean’s waist.

 

“Thank you,” Castiel’s voice was tight with emotion, and Dean ran a soothing hand up and down Castiel’s back. “Why are you so good to me?”

 

Dean didn’t answer, afraid that if he opened his mouth, all of his unrequited feelings would come spilling out and embarrass them both. Instead, he laid a quick kiss between Castiel’s brows then pulled back. “C’mon,” Dean said, opening the door and slipping out of the car. He waited for Castiel to get out then walked up the driveway to the front door. He didn’t even have to knock before the door flew open and his mother’s arms were around him.

 

Mary Winchester smelled like apples and her classic _Vanilla_ _Fields_ perfume.

 

“Oh, baby, it’s so good to see you!” Mary said, voice watery with tears. A glance across the room showed Cas in a similar situation with his own mother, Naomi Novak smiling, eyes shining. Dean’s dad gave him a one-armed hug, grinning at him from ear to ear.  When Dean first told his father that he didn’t want to take over the family business and that he wanted to do something completely different he had been so afraid that it would change their relationship, and it had. If anything, John Winchester was even more proud of his eldest for pursuing his dreams and standing his ground.

 

“I brought you some of that chocolate, mint, orange blend you like so much,” Dean said and laughed as his Dad’s eyes lit up. 

 

“We’ll have to try that out after dinner,” John said, nodding at Chuck who had come over to shake Dean’s hand.

 

“Good to see you, Dean,” Chuck said warmly.

 

“You as well, Chuck. It’s been too long.”

 

“Dean Winchester,” he heard his named called seconds before Naomi Novak had him wrapped in her arms. “It’s so good to have you home, sweetheart,” she murmured against his cheek, and Dean squeezed her back tightly. 

 

“It’s good to be here,” he replied with a grin. When he pulled back, Naomi placed a cool hand to his cheek.

 

“Thank you, Dean, for coming home with him. Thank you for looking out for my boy,” Naomi said, voice catching a little bit.

 

“Always,” Dean said solemnly, glancing over at where Castiel was being fussed over by Mary.  He turned his gaze back to Naomi who was watching him with knowing eyes.

 

“You should tell him, Dean,” Naomi said softly, and he didn’t even pretend not to know what she was talking about.

 

“Can’t do that,” he said gruffly. “I won’t risk what we have.”

 

“But think what you could have,” she implored, and Dean sighed.

 

“You’re assuming that he feels the same way, and I don’t think that he does,” Dean said, sadly and to his surprise, Naomi gave a light laugh.

 

“Then you, my dear, are blind. But fine, you two keep doing things the hard way. I just hope I’m there to witness it when it all comes to a head,” Naomi said, then went to join Mary in the kitchen.

 

A hand to his shoulder startled him as he met concerned cobalt eyes. “Dean, are you okay?”

 

Dean looked at his best friend; at the full pink chapped lips, the sexy tousled dark hair, and wide, guileless eyes and fell in love all over again. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t entertained the idea. He knew how they were with each other, the intimacy and bond that they had… it was everything that those in a romantic relationship strove for. They were devoted to each other, had unconditional love for another. The only difference was that Dean dreamed of kissing Cas, touching his skin, bringing him the ultimate pleasure while worshipping his hard, athletic body.  Pressing open-mouthed kisses to his thick runner's thighs, sucking bruises into his cut hip bones, swirling his tongue over that dark freckle by his right nipple-

 

“Dean?” Castiel’s liquid-smoke voice broke through his dangerous musings, and he found himself taking a step back. He couldn’t afford to let Castiel see any of his wants reflected in his eyes; couldn’t risk scaring him off. Dean had always promised to be there for Cas, to be his rock-his touchstone- and he wouldn’t take that away from him by ever doing anything or saying anything that would make him uncomfortable. 

 

“Yeah, sorry,” Dean forced a light laugh. “Just feels weird, being here. You know my dad has a whole hookah area set up in the basement now. Got himself a record player, little loveseat and that pipe I sent Sam home with for Christmas that year?”

 

Castiel’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Oh yes, my dad told me all about it. Apparently, it’s a weekly thing, our parents doing Sunday dinner. My mom and yours kill a bottle of wine and our dads’ hibernate downstairs.“

 

Dean wondered if that would happen tonight.  It sounded so old fashioned but sweet at the same time. 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Castiel asked again, eyes narrowed and worry glimmering in their depths.

 

“I’m fine, I promise,” Dean reassured him and was saved from saying more when dinner was announced. “C’mon. The sooner we eat dinner, the sooner we get the apple pie my mom thinks she’s hidden from me,” he said, grabbing a laughing Castiel by the hand and pulling him into the kitchen.

 

“Of course, Dean.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

  
  


“Remind me again why I agreed to do this,” Castiel demanded as he attempted for the millionth time to tame his wild hair. “I’m not even in the wedding party, and I look ridiculous.”

 

Dean gave him a soft look and walked towards him. He looked terrific, naturally. Castiel had actually rolled his eyes when Dean had stepped out of the bathroom at the ridiculousness of it. Dressed in a white short-sleeved Henley and lightweight navy colored blazer that he’d paired with khaki colored chinos, Dean looked like he just walked off the cover of _Men’s_ _Fashion_.  

 

When Dean reached him, he tugged at the quarter-sleeves of his salmon-colored dress shirt, urging him to pull his hands out of his hair.

 

“Why did you let me say yes?” Castiel asked as Dean began to finger comb Castiel’s hair.

 

“First of all,” Dean said, close enough to feel the warmth of his minty breath, “you do not look ridiculous, you look hot. I told you those pants would make your ass look great,” he said, throwing Castiel a playful wink. “Second of all, you love your mom, and since we are leaving right after the wedding, the rehearsal dinner is the last chance she’ll get to really spend some time with you,” Dean said, fingers lightly massaging Castiel’s temple. “ Now stop messing with your hair. Chicks dig the sex hair.  Bound to be some sweet thing there to catch your eye.”

 

The comment was said lightly and had something bitter burning in Castiel’s stomach.

 

“Why would you say that?” Castiel asked, and Dean looked taken aback by the question. “You know I don’t do the one night stand thing.”

 

Dean chuckled, “Who said anything about one night stands, Huckleberry? I meant to dance with.  Have a drink with. You’ve been so worried about it looking like you haven’t moved on, and I just want you to have fun.”

 

The sincerity in Dean’s voice had a lump forming in his throat, and his voice was shaky when he replied, “I have fun with you. I don’t need to put on a show with some random guy or girl I’m never gonna-” Castiel stopped and cocked his head, “why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, wondering about the sudden bewildered look on Dean’s face?

 

Dean cleared his throat. “Nothing, nothing, it’s just you said guy and I just never knew that was an option for you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a warning sign to Castiel that something about the conversation had Dean feeling nervous.

 

“I am utterly indifferent to gender when it comes to romantic partners, Dean,” Castiel said.

 

Dean’s brows winged up at that. “Huh.  I guess it just never occurred to me,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve only ever seen you with Daphne.”

 

Castiel supposed that was true. When Dean stepped back abruptly, Castiel peered at him in concern. 

 

“Dean, seriously, is something wrong?”

 

Dean gave him an over-bright smile and shook his head. “I’m fine, don’t you worry about me. Let’s get out here, though, okay? We wouldn’t want your mom to think we bailed,” Dean swept his arm, ushering Castiel out of the bathroom. They each grabbed their phones and wallets, and Castiel picked up the car keys off of the nightstand. He made the executive decision to drive until Dean stopped acting so spacy.  There was definitely something on the man’s mind, and Castiel vowed to drag it out of him by the end of the night.

 

*****

 

It turned out to be a good thing that they left for the rehearsal dinner early because traffic was insane. The fourth of July in Boston always drew large crowds. They weren’t joining the actual rehearsal, but the dinner party afterward. The sidewalks were littered with people with faces painted in flag colors, sporting shorts and tank tops in the balmy seventy-five-degree weather. Street vendors were selling glow-sticks and balloons and toys for kids and other hawked drinks and fried dough.  

 

“I almost wish we’d taken the  _ T _ ,” Dean said as Castiel stopped to let a group of kids run across the crosswalk.

 

“Because it would have been quicker to get to this place or because you wish we were out there,” Castiel asked with a grin and a nod towards the droves of people.

 

“Both,” Dean said with a laugh.

 

The further Castiel drove from the waterfront the less congested it became.  The dinner was being held at a restaurant called _The_ _Gateway_.  Castiel had been there once before, for a graduation party for his cousin Alfie. He remembered that there had been outdoor dining and extensive gardens, complete with cherub fountains and a Koi pond.

 

Dean let out a low whistle when their destination came in view.  The outside of the establishment was impressive with wide glass windows and twinkling fairy lights.  Castiel stepped out of the car and handed the keys to the valet, and Dean turned to him and adjusted his collar.

 

“Alright. Take a deep breath, I can see you getting antsy,” Dean said, and it was true. The air was perfumed with roses and jasmine from the gardens and was making him a little lightheaded on top of the nerves. “Remember that you are here for you, not for them. You’re here to show them what class is, that you may have been hurt but you are not broken,” Dean said fiercely, and Castiel nodded.

 

“I’m not broken,” he repeated.

 

“You are an amazing, strong man, you have your own business, and a fuck-ton of friends who would do anything for you and your brother is damn lucky you are even sparing him the time of day,” Dean continued in that same fevered tone and love for his best friend bubbled up and had him hugging Dean tightly to him.  Underneath the light spicy cologne was Dean’s clean soap and strawberry scent and Castiel greedily breathed him in. 

 

When he pulled back, Dean was gazing at him with something that had his heart stumbling, and for just a second, he thought about leaning in for a quick taste of Dean’s gorgeous mouth. Castiel couldn’t help but feel like they were hovering over the edge of something and he was so afraid of falling, but almost more afraid of standing still.

 

It was Dean who broke their epic staring contest, tugging on his sleeve and nodding towards the door.

 

“C’mon, I bet it’s open bar,” Dean said with a quick grin to break the tension.

 

They entered the restaurant, and Castiel’s stomach was immediately growling at the smell of buttery baked bread. Dean, however, seemed to gawk at the sheer lavishness of the place.

 

“Damn. This is fucking fancy. No, it needs a bigger word than that. What’s a swanky word for fancy?” Dean's brow furrowed adorably. Castiel broke into a grin, amused. “ _ Opulent _ ,” Dean said, finally, a proud smile on his face that had Castiel laughing. 

 

After giving the name of their party, the hostess pointed them towards broad french doors leading to a large outdoor pavilion set up with tables dressed in rich linens and fairy lights in white and pastel pink. String music was being piped in from speakers in the rafters and waiters walked around serving champagne and canapes.

 

“Jesus Christ, if this is the rehearsal dinner, what the hell is the wedding gonna look like,” Dean muttered out of the corner of his mouth as they walked down a stone path looking for Castiel’s parents.

 

Castiel took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Dean, clinking their glasses together. “This was probably a compromise. Daphne’s family is very traditional. They’ll no doubt be a much tamer reception in the church rectory.”

 

“You’re quite right, brother,” Castiel stiffened at the sound of Michael’s voice behind him. Castiel felt Dean’s hand fall to the small of his back, a steadying presence that he leaned into as they turned to face his brother. He stood, looking polished as ever, arm around Daphne’s waist, clutching at the yellow fabric of her summer dress.

 

“Hello, Michael, Daphne,” Castiel said, making sure to keep his voice cool and distant. “I trust you remember Dean,” he said.

 

“Of course, nice to see you, Dean,” Michael said politely, and Dean nodded.

 

“Daphne, you look lovely,” Dean said. “Congratulations to you both, “ Dean said in a lofty tone that conveyed he really could care less. “Cas, we should probably find your folks,” Dean said, and Castiel smiled at him gratefully.

 

“Yes, of course. I suppose we should since it’s they who begged us to come. Have a pleasant evening,” Castiel said, keeping his tone even and not realizing he was holding his breath until they’d stepped away. He exhaled shakily, and Dean ran a soothing hand up and down his back.

 

“So that was the fakest conversation ever,” he remarked, and Castiel laughed, feeling the tension he was carrying burst like a popped bubble.  “But you got through it.”

 

“I did. Thank you, Dean. Thank you for coming, and being here for me.”

 

Dean cradled the back of Castiel’s head and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Always.”

 

*****

 

Castiel and Dean caught up with Naomi and Chuck for a little while, enjoying the night air. Castiel was aware of the scrutiny from guests who no doubt knew who he was, or had at least heard what happened. Dean, of course, did his best to keep Castiel distracted, doing his own version of _Fashion_ _Police_ on the guests and judging the plates of salmon and prime rib like they were in an episode of _Top_ _Chef_.

 

Castiel was pleasantly surprised when an old friend approached their table. Meg Masters was Daphne’s cousin and one of her bridesmaids, much to Castiel’s surprise. 

 

“I couldn’t say no,” Meg said, voice as sultry as always, brown eyes shining with mirth. “Little Daphne has been quite the outcast after what she did to you,” Meg said frankly. “Her mother begged me to be in the wedding when it became apparent that she wouldn’t be able to find anyone else besides her sisters.”

 

“And you’re not enjoying the drama at all, are you?” Dean asked teasingly, and Meg tapped her glass against his. Despite her often salty attitude, Meg had a heart of gold. She was a registered nurse at Mass General, working in the psych ward.

 

“You know me too well, Deanie. Now, which one of you handsome boys are going to dance with me?”

 

“Oh, that’s all Cas,” Dean said. Castiel glared at him. Dean knew he hated dancing. “I’m not nearly drunk enough to get this party started with my awesome  moves.”

 

Meg rolled her eyes then held her hand out to Castiel. “Whatta ya say, blue-eyes? Twirl me around a bit?” 

 

Dean winked at him as Meg lead him onto the raised platform where people were dancing. Castiel’s eyes were still on Dean’s as he watched as his Aunt Amara slid into his vacant seat. Smirking, Castiel raised his fist and curled his fingers into claws, mouthing roar! And Dean just shrugged at him as if to say I told you so.

 

Leaving Dean to his cougar, Castiel swayed with Meg to the music.

 

“So, how have you been, Clarence, really?” Meg asked, and Castiel rolled his eyes at the nickname she had taken to calling him ever since she’d found out that Castiel was named after an angel.

 

“I’ve been good, Meg, really,” Castiel said. They spoke of his job, and the hookah lounge and living with Dean.

 

“I knew before you even sent word back, that you went to Dean. I honestly was surprised it took even that long,” Meg said, and Castiel raised a brow in question.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, and it was Meg’s turn to roll her eyes.

 

“I mean, I thought it was going to be you who broke things off. I mean, obviously not in such a torrid fashion, but _come_ _on_. Everyone knows it’s always been you and Dean.”

 

Castiel paused in his dancing, mouth dropping open. “Wait, what?”

 

“You two,” Meg said, nodding her head in the direction of their table. “I can’t tell you how great it is to finally see you both together.”

 

It took him a minute to get it, but before he could respond, Meg kept on talking. “I mean, it’s not like all us girls weren’t aware, you know?”

 

Castiel’s head felt light as he tried to keep up with Meg’s train of thought. “Aware of what?”

 

“That any of us lucky to see that fine ass up close and in person was just a placeholder for you,” she said it so matter of factly, like it couldn’t be anything but the truth and his breath hitched.  “And that is one fine ass if you don’t mind me saying so,” Meg said to him tone playful, and Castiel swallowed hard.

 

“You and Dean? Uh, w-when?”

 

Meg winced. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew. It was just the one time. You had just told him about your engagement and he was in a bad way…” Meg’s words danced in his head as he felt dizzy. What did this mean? Castiel needed to talk to his best friend, and he needed to do it as soon as possible. His eyes scanned the room when he found that their dinner table was empty.

 

“Meg, I have to talk to Dean, did you see where he went?” Castiel was aware of the hint of panic in his voice and Meg must have realized it too because instead of teasing she nodded.

 

“Yeah, just a few minutes ago, I saw him head out down the garden path. I’m sure he’s fine, just taking a stroll. Actually, I’m pretty sure I saw Michael follow him out there.”

 

Castiel blanched. “Oh shit,” he said, worry lacing his voice at whatever conversation might be taking place at that moment. “Thanks for the dance, Meg.” Castiel hurriedly kissed her cheek and took off towards the gardens.

 

He strode past butterfly bushes dressed in twinkle lights and smiling angel statues, following the trail, frustrated when it branched off in three directions. Staying on the middle path, Castiel was beginning to think he’d chosen wrong when he heard heated voices.

 

“ _ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” _ Castiel heard Dean hiss.

 

_ “Oh please, yes you do,” _ came his brother’s voice.  _ “The only one who doesn't know you’re in love with Castiel is Castiel. So don't preach to me about being honest. You moved all the way across the country just because you couldn't bear to see him with someone else!” _

 

Castiel felt frozen; unable to move, he could only listen to the agony in his best friend’s voice as he bared his soul under the stars.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Dean entered the gardens and peered over his shoulder, letting out a little relieved sigh when no one followed him. He wasn’t afraid of Cas’ Aunt Amara, per se, she was just creepy intense sometimes.

 

Plus, he’d needed the space. Castiel was doing great, Dean was proud with how he’d held himself, head high and a haughty expression gracing his beautiful face. Dean chuckled to himself quietly. Yes, Cas had been greeted so warmly by everyone, and he loved to see Castiel realizing just how much people loved and supported him.

 

Dean made his way over to a wide stone bench and sat down. A thin layer of sweat made him feel sticky as the humidity kicked up a notch. The koi pond in front of him was dark, and ripples danced across the surface as the fish jumped. It was getting harder, he acknowledged to himself, to appear unaffected by Castiel. All he wanted to do when he saw him on that dance floor with Meg was sweep him away and keep him all for himself.

 

He thought it was tough when he thought Castiel was straight. Now knowing that Castiel didn’t care about gender, but obviously still didn’t see Dean in that light...well, it was a blow. It was easier when he could tell himself he just didn’t have the right equipment to be what Cas wanted. To know that he just wasn’t what he wanted in general… _fuck_ , if that didn’t hurt like a son of a bitch.

 

The sound of footfalls shook Dean out of his self-pitying, and he scowled when he saw Michael emerge from the dark, flower-lined path.

 

“Dean. I was looking for you,” Michael said, and Dean shrugged.

 

“Well, you found me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and standing up.

 

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” Michael asked with amusement and if Dean wasn’t mistaken, a hint of approval. Well, hell if he needed that.

 

“I’m sorry, should I be making this easy for you after what you did?” Dean bit out, and Michael shook his head sadly.

 

“Not at all. What I did was... I just wanted to find you and talk to you without Cassie, and say thank you. Thank, you, Dean, for taking care of him.”

 

Despite the sincerity in his tone, Dean felt anger well up inside, and he was helpless to stop it from spilling over.

 

“Don't you dare thank me for being there for him. Castiel is my best friend, and I would do anything for him,” Dean dropped his arms as he approached Michael and got into his space.  “What I don't understand is why. Why weren't you just honest with him? You know that if you had just told him that you and Daphne were in love, he would have stepped aside,” Dean had no pity for the guilt and regret shining in Michael’s eyes as he continued.  “He would have done that for you, because family comes first for Castiel, always.”

 

Michael let out a laugh that bordered on bitter and hysterical.  “Like you're one to talk about honesty, Dean.”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked heatedly.

 

“What it means is that you're just as much a coward as I am. Unless I'm mistaken and you have told my brother you're in love with him?”

 

The words were like a slap in the face, but Dean refused to back down.

 

“I don't know what you are talking about,” Dean said, jaw clenched and heart racing.

 

“Oh please, yes you do. The only one who doesn't know your in love with Castiel is Castiel. So don't preach to me about being honest. You moved all the way across the country just because you couldn't bear to see him with someone else!”

 

Dean’s gut twisted at the truth of the words and he found himself firing back, tired of denying it.

 

“That's different! “ Dean burst out, “He's your brother! He would have forgiven you! You would have lost nothing, and I would have lost everything! “ Dean growled. “ How long do you think our friendship would have survived if I had told Cas I was in love with him, huh? How long until every hug or kiss on the cheek freaked him out?”

 

Michael gave a huff of disbelieving laughter.  “Dean, my brother is no homophobe.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. Of course, he wasn’t, Castiel would never be like that, but that wasn’t the point.

 

“No, but he is sweet and kind-hearted, and the guilt of not returning my feelings would have killed him. In the least it would have made everything awkward until he'd barely be able to look at me,” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face feeling all at once drained and weary. “I'd rather have him as my best friend, then not at all.”

 

“I will ALWAYS be your best friend, Dean.”

 

Dean sank down on the bench in defeat as the sound of Castiel’s voice, thick with emotion and sandpaper-rough sounded in the night behind him.

 

“Cassie, I-”

 

“Later, Michael. I need to speak with Dean now if you don’t mind.”

                                                           

 

Dean couldn’t bring himself to look up when Castiel sat next to him on the bench, fingers clutching the edge so hard that his knuckles gleamed white in the dark.

 

“I’ve always wondered, you know? Why California? Why couldn’t you just stay here, with me?”

 

Dean sniffed and turned his head, abruptly standing to face the path and avoiding Castiel’s eyes. “Yeah, well. Now you know.”

 

“Now I know,” he heard Castiel repeat as he stood up from the bench. Gentle fingers traced his jawline before gripping his face. Castiel urged him to turn and meet his eyes and Dean had to close his own at the pure emotion shining in Castiel’s ocean depths. “Dean?” Castiel murmured, whisper-soft and Dean kept his eyes closed, the pads of Castiel’s fingers tracing along Dean’s bottom lip so softly it could have been a dream.

 

And then lips replaced those fingers and Dean didn’t care if it was a dream as long as he never woke up.


	7. Chapter 7

  


Castiel couldn’t believe it was finally happening. He was kissing his best friend. His was kissing Dean, and it was _everything_. His fingers traced Dean’s cheekbones before drifting up to card through his burnt-honey hair and tugged at the strands. Dean’s lips were petal soft, and Castiel gave a shaky sigh as they parted to let him in.

 

The first brush of tongue against tongue sent sparks all through his body, and he let out a little mewl much higher than his usual gravelly tone. Dean seemed to enjoy it, however, as he was tugged in tightly by the belt at his waist. Time seemed endless as they stood under the stars, exploring each other’s mouths. With gentle nips, licks, and sucks, their lips continued to cling and part, and cling again.

 

When the first explosion happened, Castiel thought it was in his head. A few stuttered bursts of sound later, Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips and laughed softly. Castiel opened his eyes, squinting at the bright colors sizzling in the air until they turned to smoky ash. _Fourth of July_. It was fitting, he thought, as that was how he felt in that moment. Happy and oh, so free.

 

“How long?” Castiel murmured desperately against Dean’s kiss-plumped lips. “How long could I have had this?”

 

Dean shuddered out a breath. “Longer than I wanna think about, Cas. I never…” Dean shook his head, and Castiel took his hand, the silence only broken by the _pop, pop, pop_ of the holiday display. Castiel led them back to the stone bench and sat down, angling himself towards Dean, leg half-crossed on the bench, other planted on the ground.

 

Dean licked his lips and when his eyes darted up to Cas’ they warmed with affection and humor. “Cas, you gotta know, how we are with each other… it’s not how most guys act with each other. Not without romantic feelings,” Dean cleared his throat, “But years went by, and you never made a move, you never gave any sign that you wanted more so then I thought well,  he's not into guys or that kinda thing in general, maybe he’s ace or whatever, which is fine,” Dean rushed to say. “I love you, regardless, and if you wanted a romantic relationship without sex, I’d have been fine with that too. In fact, I was gearing myself up to finally just tell you so, but then you got with Daphne, and I realized that it wasn’t that you weren’t interested in romance, it was that you weren’t interested in it with me.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel protested, heart aching at the thought of Dean’s unnecessary grief. “You knew my relationship with Daphne wasn’t that kind of relationship. Hell, you yelled at me for it, for selling myself short,” he pointed out, and Dean nodded.

 

“I did. And it didn’t change anything. It only showed that if you were still willing to go through with it, then the thought of being with me that way was never an option for you.”

 

Castiel looked up as another flash and boom sounded. He shook his head, laughing, bitterly. “ The whole time I was thinking as you lectured about wanting more for me: _tell me that it’s because you love me. Please. Tell me it’s because you love me, and want me, and need me,_ ” he chuckled again, harsh, “ You never hid it when you thought someone was attractive. You’ve always been a go after what you want kind of guy, and I thought, _surely_ , if you wanted me that way you’d have said so.”

 

“If I had thought it would have made a difference, I would have.  I wish I would have. I genuinely didn’t think I stood a chance, and even though I didn’t agree with you, and I was heartbroken, I only ever wanted you to be happy.” Dean said.

 

“So you moved all the way to California so you wouldn’t have to see me and we could preserve our friendship,” Castiel’s voice was thick with regret. “We’re both at fault. I should have known. I should have pushed you more for a real reason why you needed to start this whole new life, three thousand miles away. This whole thing, our situation, it’s just as much my fault as it is yours.”

 

Dean nudged Cas’ shoulder with his own. “I think we are both being a little hard on ourselves, don’t you? I mean honestly, it’s pretty damn polite of us not to want to ruin our own friendship by burdening each other with pesky feelings,” Dean teased, and Castiel snorted out a laugh.

 

“I love how you can twist cowardly into polite and spin into a positive thing, “ Castiel said dryly, and Dean shrugged.

 

“Doesn't really matter, now, does it? Here we are. Where we were probably always gonna wind up.”

 

Castiel sniffed at him, raising his brow playfully. “You sound like a fortune cookie. See what all that tea and meditation have done to you?”

 

“You saying you don’t agree?”

 

Castiel kissed Dean, quick and soft. “I do.”

 

“In all seriousness, when you showed up on my doorstep two years ago… I never felt more relieved or more _selfish_ in my life,” Dean admitted, sheepishly.

 

“Me too. Felt relief that is. That you took me in, that I wouldn’t have to go through with the wedding. You were right, I wouldn’t have been mad at them. I wasn’t angry because they fell in love, or because they broke my heart.  I was hurt because Michael didn’t trust me enough, to be honest. If I had just known. I entered into that engagement because Daphne and I had discussed it. She was very adamant that she was only looking for companionship and I was so convinced that you didn’t have carnal feelings for me, that I was okay with that. Why try and find something more when I only ever wanted you that way?” Castiel took a deep breath of the warm, smoke-tinged air, and searched Dean’s mossy green eyes.  He was humbled when he found only love; no surprise there as Dean and love had been synonymous with each other for what seemed like forever.

 

Eyes locked under the night sky as their lips were drawn together once again. As the finale burst around them and _oohs_ and _ahhs_ filled the air, they continued to kiss, deep and languid. Pillow soft lips caught and dragged against Castiel’s, as strong arms his equal, linked around his lower back. They tasted and nipped and sucked until both were flush and oversensitive, falling deeper into each other's arms.  Castiel buried his face in the heated skin of Dean’s neck, marveling at how easy it was, being with him like this. If anything, he felt more at peace than he could ever remember feeling in his life.

 

“We should probably head back to the party,” Dean whispered against Cas’ hair, fingernails scritching at the nape of his neck. “And I’m sure you might want to talk to Michael tonight, so things are at least less awkward tomorrow.”

 

Castiel hummed in agreement, drawing back but joining their hands. He brought Dean’s knuckles to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss there, enjoying the besotted expression that overtook Dean’s face.  Fingers laced, they walked the garden path back towards the tables. “Just out of curiosity,” Castiel began mischievously, side-eying Dean sharply. “Were you ever going to tell me about you and Meg?”

 

Castiel thought he would get the patented Winchester smile and a smartass remark, but was surprised to see nothing but guilt and sadness on his face as Dean stumbled to a stop. Dean rubbed the back of his neck as he appeared to struggle to find his words.

 

“Dean, I was only teasing, I don’t begrudge you seeking comfort. I mean, it’s not something I want to envision, but I’m not angry about it.” Gravel crunched under Castiel’s shoes as he moved into Dean’s space, angling his head to catch his dark forest gaze.

 

“It’s not that. Well, not really. I don’t feel like I betrayed you, we weren’t together; that’s not why I never mentioned it,” Dean sighed, kicking at a rock on the ground. “ I never told you because it just reminds me of my lowest time. I was a mess, Cas. I was losing you, and I felt shattered, and then the whiskey just numbed it all. Meg was going through her own shit and we, I don’t know, tried to comfort each other? Doesn’t matter, I woke to an empty bed feeling worse than ever. Honestly, I like to pretend that night didn’t happen.”

 

Castiel brushed his thumb along Dean’s five o’clock shadow. “Okay,” he murmured. “We don’t ever have to talk about it again. I promise.”

 

“Thank you,” Dean replied, quietly, brushing Castiel's lips with his own, softly.

  


*********************

 

They were met with beaming smiles from Castiel’s parents when they saw him reenter the pavilion tucked in close to Dean’s body. He left Dean to speak with them as he took Michael aside, rewarding Daphne a small smile which she tentatively returned, with a dash of hope glimmering in her eyes.  

 

Castiel and his brother maneuvered through dancers and found a quiet table on the outskirts of the area and sat down. Michael looked tense and drawn, but most noticeably, he looked defeated.

 

“Cas… I don’t have words. There is nothing more in my life that I regret more than hurting you. It wasn’t something we planned. It wasn’t an ongoing affair. That-that time, was the only time we were together while you were engaged.” Michael rapped his knuckles against the table, betraying his nerves and Castiel nodded at him to continue. “We just kept running into each other, everywhere it seemed. The library, the cafe, functions that you couldn’t attend due to work or commitments with Dean and we just… had so much in common, you know? I fell in love,” Michael shrugged helplessly. “ So fast, so completely. I begged her to break it off with you. Offered to be there with her when she did it. I told her you would forgive her. Hell, I knew deep down she wasn’t for you anyway. Your heart has always been with Dean, just as his has been with you. Cassie, you were like a ghost of yourself when he was gone, and Daphne was becoming a shadow. I finally snapped. I went to your apartment and confronted her, and when she tried to deny her feelings again, I told her I was going to tell you everything.  I had every intention of speaking with you first, but then she was staring at me, all wide-eyed and soft and I couldn’t stop myself. I kissed her… and I never stopped kissing her.”

 

Castiel studied his brother, hearing the truth and regret in his words. Music played quietly around them and across the patio where he caught Dean’s eye as he twirled Castiel’s mother around the dance floor. He felt himself settle at the sight, warmth and desire curling in his stomach at the loving smile his best friend sent his way, touched that Dean would humor Naomi, even though he detested dancing.

 

“I’m still hurt that you would disrespect me like that,” Castiel said, returning his attention back to Michael. “It’s going to take a long time for that to subside. I would never begrudge you any happiness, Michael, and you should have told me as soon as you developed feelings for Daphne. For all of our sakes. Things didn’t have to go down the way they did. We only agreed on marriage in the first place for want of shared companionship. Because neither of us thought we were capable of more. Me, because I was forever hung up on Dean, and her because according to Daphne, she had never been interested in the sexual aspects of wedded life.”

 

“I know,” Michael acknowledged, meeting Castiel’s gaze head-on and unflinchingly. “Believe me when I tell you how much her feelings for me shocked her. She wants to tell you when you’re ready to hear it. She wants to share her side with you. Daphne misses your friendship, Castiel, I hope you can believe that. We both have missed you, so much.”

 

Castiel reached over and squeezed his brother’s hand. “It’s not necessary, I don’t need to hear her side. I understand very well what happened. I forgive you, Michael. I forgive you both, not just for you but for me,” Castiel smiled softly, peaceful at knowing he truly meant it, “ Because as much as what you did was wrong, you were following your heart which is something I should have done long ago,” Castiel murmured with another look at Dean. The man winked and blew him a kiss, and Castiel laughed fondly, rolling his eyes for form. Michael followed his gaze to the gazebo where Dean was now chatting with Crowley and Hannah, animatedly waving around a flute of champagne and he regaled them with something that had the pair doubling over with laughter.

 

“It looks like he waited for you, anyway,” Michael remarked with an arched brow. “He’s a good guy, that Winchester.”

 

“He’s the best,” Castiel replied and Michael laughed, no doubt because of the stars that Castiel was sure were shining in his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean and Castiel waited for the first rush of guests to filter out before taking their leave, though it was difficult; Making small talk with relatives and friends they hadn’t seen in a few years, while enjoyable, was also its own form of torture. Their feelings were finally out in the open, and a hum of excitement thrummed between them.

 

Dean’s arm draped over Cas’ shoulders as they spoke with Crowley and Hannah, Castiel’s own hand slipping beneath Dean’s blazer to settle at the small of his back. It felt both wildly new and achingly familiar. The closeness they always displayed fazing no one, none the wiser of the electric current of sensation racing through Dean’s body and echoed in Castiel’s, if the reflexive tightening of his fingers against Dean’s back was anything to go by. 

 

When they finally did slip away for the evening, it was Dean who drove this time, needing the distraction of the road to calm his fluttering stomach at the monumental change that had occurred throughout the night. Castiel seemed content to hold his hand tightly as they maneuvered between traffic and swarms of people vacating the waterfront now that the fireworks display had ended and the _Boston_ _Pops_ performance was through.

 

The funny thing was, despite how epically his and Castiel’s relationship had shifted, it was really just a ripple on a steady pond, shook for a moment, then settled to where it has always been. They were as they ever were, only now when their eyes caught, Dean could see the naked want in Castiel’s eyes, in the way he bit his bottom lip, pink and plush. It was leveling; stealing his breath and filling him close to bursting with affection, love, and need.

 

When they arrived at the hotel, the air seemed to crackle between them. Castiel laced his hand with Dean’s as surefooted, they walked through the lobby and straight for the elevator.  Dean let out a short burst of air as Castiel began to nose at his jawline, then dipped in for a soft kiss to Dean’s neck. His free hand clutched at the back of Cas’ head, fingers tugging at the dark citrus scented strands. When Castiel began to suckle at his throat Dean yanked harder than he meant to, his apology dying on his lips when Cas growled at the tug and crowded in closer. 

 

The ding of the elevator and the clearing of a throat had them pulling apart. Dean could feel himself flushing, but Castiel seemed to show no embarrassment. He pulled Dean along down the corridor and used their key card to get into the room. Dean observed as Castiel casually tossed his jacket and slipped off his shoes. When he noticed Dean just standing and watching him, Castiel cocked his head quizzically.

 

“Are you okay?” Castiel asked, deep gravely tone breaking the silence of the room and Dean laughed shakily as he observed his best friend, the love of his life. How Castiel stood there so calm and confident while Dean’s pulse was racing, heartbeat echoing in his ears and leaving him feeling breathless, he didn’t know.

 

“I love you,” Dean finally breathed out and watched as Castiel softened, smiling at him with open affection. “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t, whether it was familial, friendship, or our unrequited-whatever- it’s always been there. But this?” Dean raised his hand and gestured between them. “This culmination of some _seriously_ high-level pining has me vibrating in my skin. I’m stoked to be done with the angst, but I’m also nervous as fuck,” Dean barked out a laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And your all _Captain_ _Collected_ over there-” Dean tried to be a little offended when Castiel tipped his head back in quiet laughter but he looked too fucking good for him to hold a grudge, and Dean grinned despite himself. He shook a loose fist at his side nervously as he waited, wondering what Castiel was going to say or do.

 

He didn’t have to wonder long. In what seemed like less than a second Castiel stood before him, studying his face with wide blue eyes wild as an ocean storm. Dean shivered when Castiel tugged at the hem of his shirt, long fingers skirting along the edging and brushing against his stomach. He stared back as Castiel searched his gaze, giving a barely-there nod as though finding what he sought. Dean didn’t have time to question what that might be before his mouth was caught in a fast, messy kiss which ended when Castiel smiled too wide to continue. “Let’s take a bath,” he said abruptly against Dean’s lips. “C’mon.”

Castiel stepped back and began to strip off his clothes leaving a trail to the bathroom where the beloved jacuzzi tub sat.

 

Not to be called a coward, Dean lost his own clothes and reminded himself that he and Cas had seen each other naked before. But this wasn’t like the  _ no lingering unless you wanna get beat up locker room _ flashes from high-school, or the accidentally slipped towel from the natural hazard of being roommates. No, this was a deliberate full body scan that he was subjecting himself to. Castiel looked his fill as he turned on the jacuzzi and ran a hand under the nozzle to check the temperature. Castiel continued to survey him, occasionally biting his lips as his gaze lingered on his nipples, down to the tattoo of a pentagram encircled by flames on Dean’s chest before sweeping down to his bowed legs. The expression on his face was a breathtaking mix of need, lust, and love and Dean wished he could burn it forever in his mind.  

 

Dean took his own opportunity to ogle as Castiel turned to grab a complimentary bath bomb out of the little wicker basket on the broad ledge of the bathtub. His thick, runners thighs and broad-shouldered back that almost looked like angel wings when his muscles flexed, were a work of art and the sharp cut of his hipbones had Dean unconsciously licking his lips as he imagined tasting the tanned skin. Castiel dropped the bath bomb in front of one of the jets, and the scent of eucalyptus and mint filled the air as bubbles began to build. Castiel cocked a brow at Dean, nodding towards the rapidly filling jacuzzi.

 

Shaking off his nerves Dean stepped into the hot water, hissing at the high temperature, yet loving the heat against his skin. He sank into the bath and leaned his head back with a sigh. When Cas turned to step in himself, Dean expected him to sit across from him in the large space; instead, Castiel settled against Dean, back to his chest, head resting against his shoulder. 

 

“Comfortable?” Dean murmured as Castiel turned his head, sighing into the skin just under Dean’s ear.

 

“Yes,” he rumbled out, practically purring in contentment and Dean chuckled as his nerves slipped away.  Dean adjusted, knees coming up to bracket Cas’ body between them. He began to run his fingers up and down Castiel’s arms, not sure how far to go in the touching department.  Cas, for his part, had linked his arms around Dean’s thighs under the water, reclining back further. The skin on skin contact had Dean’s cock swollen and hard as it settled against Castiel’ spine. “Are you more relaxed now?”

 

Dean laughed and ground his hard length against Cas teasingly. “I wouldn’t say relaxed, but I’m over my internal freak out if that’s what you are wondering.”

 

“Why were you freaking out in the first place. Are you having second thoughts?” Castiel asked, for the first time appearing a little nervous and Dean rushed to reassure him.

 

“No, God no, nothing like that. It’s just you were so chill, and I am just trying not to push you into anything you’re not ready for.  I don’t know how far you and Daphne went, I don’t know who-who else you’ve been with and what you’re comfortable with,” Dean finished, lamely, fingers still stroking the skin of Cas’ forearms.

 

“Dean,” Castiel angled his head up and gazed into Dean’s eyes, blue depths steady and sincere. “I’m so  _ ‘chill _ ,’ ” Castiel’s hands emerged from the water as he air-quoted, making Dean laugh, “because I know that whatever we do, it will be beautiful. How can it not be? Our friendship, our love, is already more than most people find in a lifetime.  Our devotion and connection… anything more, becoming intimate and sharing our bodies in the most carnal way? It’s only an extra gift to an already sacred and profound bond,” Castiel’s words had Dean’s eyes stinging as the truth of them hit him forcefully in the chest. Even without sex, his relationship with Castiel was more fulfilling than any he had ever with anyone else before and how  _ amazing _ was that?

 

“As for Daphne and I…, there were a few times we experimented. Drank enough wine to try kissing and light over the clothing petting and I could never get there.  It wasn’t like when I masturbated and thought about your hands on me or your mouth.” Castiel said bluntly and a surge of heat flowed through Dean’s veins as the imagery of Castiel bringing himself off to fantasies of him suffused Dean with fire.

 

“You imagined me when you got off, Cas?” Dean questioned hotly as his fingers roamed up Castiel’s arms, turning inward to strum his dusky pink nipples. Castiel let out a high-pitched whine and-- oh. He wanted to hear more of that.

 

“I imagined all kinds of things,” Castiel breathed out raggedly as Dean’s hand began to skate lower, one still toying playfully with the stiffened peak of his right nipple, ghosting over a dark freckle that Dean ached to taste, while the other hand danced across Cas’ navel, making his stomach muscles jump under Dean’s fingers.

 

‘Tell me,” Dean challenged, tilting Cas’ head so he could lick a long stripe down his damp neck and Castiel chuckled darkly, fingers digging into the meat of Dean’s thighs. “Did you picture us like this?”

 

“Just like this,” Castiel said with a choked off gasp as Dean’s fingers wrapped around his cock, jutting out of the water towards Cas’ freckled stomach. It was a heady feeling for Dean, holding Castiel’s thickness in his hand, thumbing at the slit, feeling the slick pre-cum and spreading it around the head. A guttural growl tumbled out of Castiel as Dean set a rhythm of squeeze, stroke, twist that had Castiel writhing in his arms. Dean’s own dick was longer, but slightly less thick and rubbed against the small of Cas’ back as he scootched up straighter to pump Cas’ faster.

 

Dean wanted to live in this moment forever, feeling the tight arch of Castiel’s body aligned with his, the stunning visual of his pink lips parted to allow for deep, raspy grunts to fall out as his head tilted back, blue-eyes rolling in rapture. The thready moans, octaves higher than Castiel’s normal sand-paper tone was the hottest thing Dean had ever heard in his life. Castiel thrashed in the bubbling water, coming undone as he chased his orgasm by fucking into Dean’s fist.

 

“Dean,  _ Dean _ ,” Castiel chanted, body nearly vibrating against him, “wanna cum inside you but-unh, I can’t- _ I’m gonna _ ,” Castiel babbled and Dean shushed him, gently.

 

“It’s okay, Cas, we have all night,” Dean reminded his love as he thrust against Castiel’s firm ass, dick sliding between his crease as Cas growled low, his cock pulsing and erupting forcefully over Dean’s hand.  Dean continued to stroke Castiel through his orgasm, relishing in the wanton whiskey-soaked groans that seemed to be ripped out of his throat. When Castiel’s cheeks clenched around Dean’s length on one last guttural scream, he was flung over the edge, grinding up as he spilled along Castiel crack in the rapidly cooling water.

 

They lay reclined in the tepid water until their breathing regulated and their fingers turned pruney.  Giggling like children, they leaned on each other as they stumbled out of the tub, legs week as newborn foals.  Dean and Castiel crowded into the glassed-in shower to rinse off the remnants of their release, both loose-limbed and drowsy. Dean playfully rubbed at Cas’ hair with a towel, laughing when it stuck up in every direction. Barefoot, they padded back into the bedroom, and Dean let out a huff of laughter as Castiel turned off the light and pushed him down onto the bed. Castiel crawled into bed, and Dean reached down to drag the comforter over their naked bodies.

 

“I’ve never come from someone else’s hand before,” Castiel whispered into the scant space between their bodies where they were curled towards each other like parenthesis. Moonlight spilled in through the window creating patterns of light across Cas’ face, and Dean was all at once struck with how stunning the love of his life was.

 

“Oh, yeah? What’s the verdict?” Dean asked with playful affection, brushing his thumb across Cas’ cheek, enjoying the feel of his stubble.

 

“Powerful,” Castiel replied after a moment. “The loss of control, everything tightening and then just  _ bam _ ,” he said the words with such wonder that Dean couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride for it. “Is it always like that or is better because we…”

 

“Because we love each other so much?” Dean whispered against Castiel’s lips, smiling when Cas nodded, looking almost shy. “I think anything we do together will feel perfect because we are perfect together,” Dean said, not caring one bit if he sounded sappy. He’d waited for a hell of a long time to feel this happy, and he wasn’t about to let Castiel wonder for one second about how much finally being together like this meant to him.

 

“I know you said we had all night,” Castiel started only to cut himself off with a jawbreaking yawn that had Dean chuckling softly.

 

“It’s okay, Cas, get some sleep. We’ll have all the time in the world to explore when we get home.” Considering he hadn't thought to bring any lube or condoms with him, not expecting this trip to culminate in him finally getting to have Castiel in the way that he’d only dreamed of, it was probably better that they wait anyway.

 

“Mmm, yes,” Castiel murmured, sleep already starting to drag him under. “On your memory foam,” he slurred with a wide grin as he draped himself across Dean’s chest.

 

Dean didn’t remember falling asleep that night, as he held Castiel’s warm, firm body against his, but he knew it was with a smile on his face.

  
  


********************

 

The morning of the wedding dawned bright and clear and  _ hot _ . The church was stifling, but Daphne did look beautiful in a strapless champagne gown that complimented her peaches and cream complexion. Michael looked euphoric, and Dean was gratified to see laughter and happy tears in Cas’ eyes when his brother embraced him tightly after the ceremony.

 

They weren’t able to stay very long at the reception, as they had an evening flight to catch. Dean felt a little sad that they didn’t book it for a day later, but hindsight is twenty-twenty, and at the time the arrangements had been made, it had been with the express intent to leave as soon as possible. Now that hearts and fences had been mended, it was a little harder to say goodbye.

 

When Meg caught the bouquet and Dean, the lacy pink garter, she had teasingly passed the bunch of roses and lilies to Castiel, urging Cas to sit in Dean’s lap as he twirled the lace around his finger. Some of Daphne’s more reserved family members didn’t look too pleased, but Naomi, Chuck, and Meg had fun snapping photos of the pair as Dean jokingly got to his knees and slid the garter up and over Castiel’s leg until it sat snuggly on his thick, muscular thigh.

 

“I want copies of those pictures,” Dean warned as he kissed his second mother goodbye and pulled Chuck in for a one-armed hug.

 

“Oh, please. I sent them to your mother a half-hour ago, guaranteed they’re all over Facebook already,” Naomi laughed, and Dean groaned loudly.

 

“Sam is gonna be such a smug little bitch about all of this,” Dean said dramatically, and Castiel laughed, a musical sound that made any and all future teasing to come well worth it.

 

Castiel cradled Dean’s cheeks in his long-fingered palms before leaning in for a soft, languid kiss. “We’ll survive, my love,” he said sweetly, and Dean’s heart nearly flew out of his chest at the endearment.

 

“Yeah, we will. And I don’t know about you, but I am ready to be home, alone with you and making up for lost time,” Dean said softly, searching Cas’ gorgeous blue-eyes and finding them bright with happiness. “You with me?”

 

“Of course,” Castiel said, voice sandpaper rough and filled with emotion. “I am your Huckleberry, aren’t I?” he asked with a teasing lift of his brow, and arms looped around Dean’s neck.

 

“Hell yes, you are,” Dean said emphatically, pressing a hard kiss to pink, chapped lips. “Always.”

  
  


The End

 


End file.
